


It looks good on you

by sammywolfdamon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Boners, Belly Kink, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, College, Confused Stiles Stilinski, Desperate Stiles Stilinski, Freshman Stiles Stilinski, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Nipples, Past Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott is a Tease, Weight Gain, scott's body has gotten kinda soft and pudgy and stiles likes that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-18 19:25:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16523186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammywolfdamon/pseuds/sammywolfdamon
Summary: Stiles never meant for his obsession to take over his life so completely. He had always had a tendency to over-analyse and overtly examine insignificant things with his overly active brain, but this was getting out of hand. And as usual, the subject of his obsessive nature was the one and only, his godly werewolfiness, Scott McCall. Or rather, Scott McCall’s body.





	1. Soft

**Author's Note:**

> hey all. i honestly have no idea how this kink!fic came about but i was bored last night and thinking about what scott mccall would look like with a bit of extra flesh on him and how stiles would react to that. thus, this fic was born. 
> 
> obviously, if you're not into to this kinda stuff, do not read on.
> 
> :)

Stiles never meant for his obsession to take over his life so completely. He had always had a tendency to over-analyse and overtly examine insignificant things with his overly active brain, but this was getting out of hand. And as usual, the subject of his obsessive nature was the one and only, his godly werewolfiness, Scott McCall. Or rather, Scott McCall’s _body._

 

In the past he had always shared his love between Lydia, the girl of his dreams, and Scott, his best friend in the whole world, and that had been great. Sure, there was the occasional stressful moment when the two of the three people (his father being the third) he cared about most in the world were in supernatural danger and he as a human had felt totally helpless, but nothing too major. Life was good. But then Lydia moved across the country to go to MIT and she and Stiles, after 2 blissful months following the whole Ghost Riders fiasco; split up, due to long distance. Scott, his ever loyal best friend had been there for the fall after the breakup and he and Stiles had settled into life as roommates as freshman year of college began. Lydia was out of the picture, and Stiles couldn’t help but find himself growing more and more attracted to Scott.

 

First term of college had been going great so far, and Scott hadn’t turned (intentionally or unintentionally), while they had been roomies once. Scott had been in a mostly danger and stress-free environment for 6 weeks and Stiles has noticed the change. His playfulness was back in full force, he didn’t constantly feel responsible for the whole supernatural race of the west coast and Stiles was happy to see Scott so unburdened. As far as he could tell, Scott hadn’t even been using his wolf senses at all, and had been living his college life as humanly as possible for an Alpha.

 

With Scott and Stiles sharing an apartment, they did everything together, and privacy didn’t really exist. This was all fine, as that was pretty much how life was back in high school, sleeping over constantly and having video game battles. Stiles had seen Scott shirtless countless times before, but never really noticed him. And Scott walked around the apartment now shirtless all the time, so Stiles was used to his friend’s heavenly body being on display. Stiles had learnt to avert his gaze while Scott was shirtless, as he knew that he would get a boner almost instantly if he looked too long. And while Stiles also knew that Scott would probably laugh it off, Stiles didn’t want to run the risk of making their years-long friendship awkward.

 

This wasn’t the first time in Stiles’ life that he had been attracted to guys. He had a weird fixation with Jackson for a while, due to the alluring concept of hate-fucking that tight little ass he had. That was all pre-kanima of course, because that thing was disgusting and there was no way he was going to go near someone who could potentially have a tail and scales growing on him at any moment. Then of course there was the whole weird tension he had had going on with Derek back in sophomore year, but he had gotten over that pretty quickly. However, Stiles would be lying to himself if he said that the image of Derek’s hairy, muscled torso didn’t appear in his fantasies from time to time.

 

It was fair to say that Stiles had figured out that he was bisexual pretty quickly after realizing that he was jerking off to the thought of dick and to what he considered was the true gift from god (that being the male ass), just as much, if not more, as he did to pussy, breasts, and all the lovely rounded curves all the female form.

 

But never before had an attraction triggered such a physical, visceral response from Stiles. Scott, in all his muscled, tanned glory was all that Stiles could think about. He had multiple daydreams in class throughout the week, and his grades were starting to drop. Every moment he was around Scott he could feel his dick swelling, and at this point, he was probably the most hygienic freshman on campus due to all the cold showers he had to take to get his mind off of Scott and his dick calmed. He had even stopped wearing boxers, because he needed the restricting prison of cotton in briefs to contain and somewhat shield his near-constant erection. Stiles was surprised Scott hadn’t picked upon his arousal, because, as he once told that old codger Gerard, may he rest in hell, his stench was very pungent, and he was sure that being horny made that case all the more true.

 

In any case, all was well with him and Scott, and apart from Stiles’ tiny, insignificant, potentially all-consuming lust for his best friend in the whole entire world; everything was great. But then, sometime around late November, Stiles’ issue became a lot more desperate.

 

<->

 

“Am I getting fat, Stiles?” Scott asked as he walked into what they liked to call the living room in their pathetic little dorm.

 

Stiles kept reading, settled on a musty old couch he and Scott picked up off the side of the road near Redding, a town on the Sacramento River. “Of course not. I don’t think you could get fat anyway, isn’t that kinda of the whole deal with being a werewolf?” Stiles reasoned, gesturing lightly while still focusing on his novel, the, in Stiles’ opinion, less than fascinating _Great Expectations_. “Strength, power, superhuman senses, alcohol resistance. Surely your metabolism is just as boosted as everything else.” Stiles heard Scott hum questioningly.

 

“I don’t know man. Have you had a look at me lately?” Scott replied.

 

 _No I haven’t,_ Stiles thought. _I’ve been too busy trying not to get turned on by looking at you_.

 

“I mean,” Scott continued, ”my ass has gotten kinda big…”

 

Stiles’ eyes shot up to find Scott in just his boxers looking over his shoulder at Stiles with his back to him, his ass in full view.

 

Stiles’ mouth went dry.

 

The ass in question was considerably larger since the last time Stiles had focused on it, which was to say, the start of college, and it had undeniably gotten… _plumper_? Stiles couldn’t help but notice how it filled Scott’s boxers, stretching fabric tightly across the now soft and melon-like mounds of flesh. The poor boxers were absolutely strained, barely containing Scott’s ass. Scott had always had a nice ass, but this was certainly new to Stiles. It was incredible.

 

Stiles’ eyes snaked down Scott’s figure and were enchanted to find that not only had his ass gotten fatter, but his thighs, although still muscled, had gone from thin and athletic to wide and thick-set. Stiles was practically drooling, drowning in his appreciation of his best friend’s new figure. Stiles didn’t understand why but the new growth was making him excited in all kinds of ways he didn’t know were possible. It was a good thing that winter was setting in and Stiles was wrapped in a blanket, because his batman pajama pants would have definitely not hidden the throbbing erection he had.

 

 _How did I not notice this was happening?_ Stiles wondered.

 

“Dude!”

 

Stiles licked his lips unconsciously and looked up into Scott’s puppy dog eyes once more.

 

“I asked you a question,” Scott re-iterated, turning around fully to face Stiles. ”Am I getting fat?”

 

 _Holy shit it just keeps getting better,_ Stiles marvelled.

 

Not only had Scott’s ass gotten fatter, but his torso had also lost it’s former model-like definition. Stiles was getting more and more confused with this burgeoning attraction… _or was it a kink?_ of his, but he could figure that out later.

 

Scott’s previously strong chest had softened ever so slightly, his pecs now fuller and a bit meatier. Additionally, Scott’s once-taut abs had faded into a soft, slightly hairy expanse of tan skin, with a belly button that seemed a bit deeper than before, to Stiles’ delight. Stiles’ eyes ran a little further, tracing the happy trail then expanding his view outwards coming to rest on a sight that made his very confused but very, _very_ hard cock twitch in excitement.

 

Love handles.

 

Stiles almost died as he hungrily took in every little detail. The pudgy collection of skin, the little layer of flab that rested on his hip bones and rounded them outwards, creating a circular illusion to Scott’s torso that had Stiles mesmerised. Stiles was unsure before, but now he was certain. He had a kink for Scott’s weight gain.

 

Stiles suddenly felt hungry. _Those love handles look fucking edible._

 

Suddenly, Stiles remembered that he was supposed to be playing the part of sensible, reassuring, not-attracted-to-his-best-friend best friend.

 

“N-n… nah man, you’re not fat,” Stiles spluttered. “You um…” Stiles swallowed thickly, looking at anywhere but Scott, “you just got a bit of extra weight. It uh-“ Stiles looked into Scott’s searching eyes, “it looks good on you.”

 

 _Fuck_. Stiles panicked. _I’m a dead man. A perverted dead man._

Scott raised his eyebrow. “You think so?”

 

Stiles nodded dumbly, still in a haze of panic, confusion and arousal. ”Yeh definitely.”

 

Scott smirked, walking over to Stiles with a look in his eyes that Stiles knew meant trouble. “Really? Because I just weighed myself, and-” Scott firmly grabbed both his ass cheeks with a _thwack!_ , “I’ve put on 10 pounds since college started.”

 

Stiles almost moaned out loud. He bit down hard on his bottom lip in an effort to stem the noise from leaving his body. For some reason, hearing the number made Stiles even hornier, his now positively aching dick leaking pre-cum.

 

“Well, um, wow man. That’s uh- that’s a fair bit,” Stiles managed to get out.

 

 _Thank god for this blanket,_ Stiles screamed internally. Why was he getting so turned on by this? He had never been into bigger guys, or girls for that matter, before. Why now was he suddenly getting a boner from seeing his best friend gain weight?

 

“Yeh it is I guess,” Scott continued, “I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” Scott smiled again.

 

_I’m going to hell._

“At first I noticed my jockstrap getting a bit tight a couple of weeks ago. Then these,” Scott grabbed at each love handle with a fist, causing the soft flesh to fold over itself, “started showing up.”

 

 _Fuckfuckfuckfuck._ Surely Scott wasn’t doing this on purpose?

 

Stiles was freaking out. Did Scott know Stiles was attracted to him? Did Scott know that Stiles’ got off on this sort of shit? Hell, Stiles only just figured it out 5 minutes ago, how did Scott figure it out so quickly?

 

Stiles gulped audibly and tried to stop his whole body from trembling and his voice from shaking as waves of desire washed over him.

 

“I see,” Stiles managed to choke out.

 

He was sweating under his blanket and his batman pajamas were now soaked with pre-cum. Stiles’ dick was actually hurting. If Scott couldn’t pick up Stiles’ arousal before, surely he could smell the physical evidence of it now.

 

“Anyway,” Scott sighed nonchalantly, “I’ll probably just work it off in the gym in the next couple of weeks in time for winter break.”

 

Stiles could feel Scott’s eyes on him, testing him, trying to make him crack.

 

Stiles steeled himself, ignoring the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and the small bit of flesh that seemed to hang just ever so slightly over the waistband of Scott’s purple boxers and the fact that _holyfuckingshit_ his best friend knew that Stiles was attracted to him and potentially had a kink for his softening physique.

 

“Whatever man.”

 

Scott lightly nodded his head in satisfaction, hiding, Stiles knew, his small disappointment at the fact he hadn’t been able to break him. The alpha turned on his heel and made his way towards the kitchen. Stiles breathed out in relief and wiped at his forehead, barely believing what had just happened.

 

“Then again, who knows,” Scott had stopped at the dividing wall between the ‘living room’ and the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll just eat heaps and grow out this ass-” Stiles spluttered and coughed, a seemingly full-on asthma attack taking over his body. “Y’know, make it fat.”

 

Stiles nearly came then and there. Scott winked at Stiles and slapped his ass again, making the round globes quiver in his boxers. He then went into the kitchen, leaving Stiles a shaking, quivering, sweating mess on the musty old couch of their lousy dorm room.

 

_Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit._

 

Stiles panted like a bitch in heat, eventually becoming a conscious human being again after two whole minutes of hyperventilating. If it was possible to die from arousal, Stiles was pretty sure he was about to.

 

 _I have a kink for my best friend’s weight gain,_ Stiles thought, absolutely numb. _And he knows._

 

Not caring about disguising his actions and filled with utter desperation, Stiles ripped off the blue blanket and jogged—no—bolted, to the bathroom on the other side of the living room. Once inside, Stiles slammed the door shut and shucked down his batman pajama pants, grabbing his slick, angry, red cock and pumping it ferociously, visualising Scott’s ass and lovehandles and chest and belly and face and Scott’s _everything_. On the verge of tears, he shoved his fist into his mouth and came, screaming silently and spurting rope after rope of warm, white cum onto the dirty tiled floor of the bathroom while his body shuddered violently, riding the aftershocks, as he convulsed and shook as he leaned against the wall of the bathroom. Feeling himself get light-headed again, he closed his eyes with one name on his lips.

 

 _Scott McCall_.


	2. Afterglow

Stiles came to, confused and soaked and pretty sure he had blacked out for a second, so overcome with arousal and relief, he presumed. He found himself sitting down on their decrepit bathroom floor, his bare foot resting in the sticky, opaque mess of his orgasm. His breathing had steadied, and he heard Scott pottering away just outside in the kitchen.

 

Stiles really was a dead man. Scott knew. _He fucking knew._ And Stiles knew that there was nothing he could do about it.

 

Stiles liked Scott.

 

Stiles got turned on by Scott.

 

Stiles got turned on by Scott _getting fat_.

 

Stiles had gotten fixated on small aspects of the body before. Actually, since it was in Stiles’ nature to focus on the tiny details of everything, this happened a lot, more than Stiles would like to admit. Stiles had a little ‘thing’ for every person he had ever been attracted to, whether it was Lydia’s lips or Malia’s collarbones or Jackson’s perky little nipples or Derek’s swarthy armpits or Peter’s annoyingly angulated jaw.

 

But this ‘thing’ he had for Scott… this was new. He had never before gotten fixated on anything to do with fat.

 

 _Pull yourself together, Stilinski!_ Stiles reprimanded himself. _Use whatever tiny shred of dignity you have left and get out of this goddamn_ bathroom.

 

Dragging himself off the floor and wiping away his cum with a wad of toilet paper, Stiles shoved his now flaccid dick back into his batman pajamas, opened the door and walked through the kitchen, ignoring Scott’s call of lasagne for dinner, into their bedroom to his desk.

 

 _I’m sure there are others with my affliction_ , Stiles assured himself. Just like everything else he didn’t know about, he knew he would find the answers he needed about his emerging kink for all things pudgy and soft in his trusted bible — the internet.

 

Stiles sat down at his tiny wooden desk in he and Scott’s bedroom and spun around a few times on his old creaking wheelie chair which he had brought to campus from his room back home in Beacon Hills, not caring that he was making it wet with his damp, sweaty, post-orgasm body. Stiles was a sentimental guy. Scott had a desk of his own, but it was never utilised, collecting old biology coursebooks and pens and dust and dirty jockstraps and god knows what else.

 

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he rotated around to his desk and flipped up the lid of his battered, bruised and definitely overused laptop, feeling a sense of comfort and curiosity wash over him in the unnatural light of the screen, welcoming him back to the online land of his people. It was there that Stiles had been able to make himself feel useful all those years ago to his newly supernatural best friend, and thus, the internet always held a special place in his heart.

 

Sitting there waiting for his laptop to fire up, Stiles found himself looking over at the bombsite that was Scott’s desk, desperately trying to avoid gazing at Scott’s dirty old jockstraps.

 

 _Dirty old jockstraps that no longer fit…_ Stiles thought hungrily before getting back to the task at hand. Stiles knew full well that if he indulged for one moment in the mental images of Scott’s fat ass just _barely_ being contained by a tight white jockstrap that were flashing in that his tortured little psyche, he would never get any research done and end up on the floor again in a puddle of sweat and cum.

 

Knee bobbing up and down in nervous anticipation, Stiles clicked on the web browser icon and began to type into the search engine.

 

 _What is it called when you like seeing someone get fat?_ Stiles typed.

 

The results page loaded and Stiles was confronted with a monolithic collection of blog posts, forums, and reddit posts en masse pertaining to his question.

 

It turned out that, according to the internet at least, what Stiles was into was a kink that related to weight gain and could turn into feederism, a kink which, Stiles later discovered and came to understand with further research, was the propensity to enjoy feeding or watching someone eat to gain fat.

 

 _Sounds like me,_ Stiles thought.

 

Also, and much to Stiles’ relief, he wasn’t alone, as he came to find a huge online community of feeders and feedees with advice and tips.

 

 _The internet really is such a kind place,_ Stiles reflected fondly, smiling inwardly.

 

“Hey Stiles,” Scott said, the voice travelling towards the bedroom and interrupting Stiles’ thoughts, sending him into a panic, “I was thinking that we could go driving in Roscoe tomorrow to Sacramento River.” Stiles heard Scott’s footfalls sound closer and closer until he looked at Scott in the doorway still in his purple boxers because _offuckingcourse_ he was, and smiled meekly, quickly closing all the tabs that evidenced his dirty little secret. Scott set down the bowl of lasagne he had on his bedside table at the door of their bedroom, causing his right love handle to fold in on itself at an angle that created the sexiest roll of fat Stiles had ever seen. Scott crossed his arms and left them resting on top of the small swell of his newly pudgy belly, causing his plush chest to squeeze together forming two soft meaty peaks of flesh, causing Stiles to immediately regret his decision to only wearing loose pajama pants for the second time that evening. Scott peered over at  Stiles’ lit up screen with one eyebrow raised in suspicion and asked in a discerning voice, “What you workin on Stiles?”

 

Stiles crossed his arms across his laps in a thinly veiled attempt to hide his growing erection and replied, “Nothing much.” Scott raised his eyebrow even higher. Stiles nodded vaguely and tried to avert Scott’s suspicion with a change of subject. “But umm, hey, that river idea sounds good. Roscoe been needing a good drive anyway.”

 

“Okay well good then, I can help you research good spots along the river,” Scott said excitedly, grabbing his lasagne and plonking himself down on Stiles’ wheelie chair alongside Stiles. Stiles groaned inwardly, Scott’s bare, hairy, meaty tanned thighs pushed up against his legs, spreading outwards and off the chair tantalisingly wide.

 

 _He has got to be doing this on purpose!_ Stiles bemoaned, achingly hard once again.

With one arm still in his lap, Stiles typed in ‘swimming spots along the sacramento river’ into google and brought up a top 10 list, distracting himself from the body and person next to him in an attempt to calm down his downstairs situation.

 

“So…” Stiles scanned the top of the list, “it looks like there’s a really good place down the river that has a tyre swing which you can launch off into the water.” Stiles looked over at Scott for confirmation and saw him nod and chew on his lasagne, his once-prominent jaw muscles somewhat faded now, Stiles noticed.

 

“Hmmm, looks good,” Scott said, “but what about a rope off a tree? That way we can really swing out, you know?”

 

Stiles hummed in approval and scanned further down the list.

 

“You want any of this lasagne?” Scott offered mumbling with a mouth full of food, “It’s really good.” Scott rubbed his soft stomach, and Stiles just about _died_ , trying but failing to tear his eyes away from the erotic scene if fingers sinking into tan flesh.

 

“Uhh, nah man,” Stiles gulped, “I’m all good.”

 

“Alrighty then, more for me!” Scott said shrugging, and Stiles forced himself to look back at the list, his erection now straining against his left thigh.

 

Stiles had a serious problem. How was he supposed to live with his best friend while he was walking half naked and eating all day? At least winter was settling in, much to Stiles’ relief, because winter meant more layers and less skin. Maybe that could quench his desire for his best friend.

 

Stiles scrolled to number 9 on the list and found what Scott was looking for.

 

“Found your place, Scotty. It’s got a rope, deep water and is only a 2 hour drive away.”

 

“Perfect!” Scott exalted. Using this as an excuse to leave the desk, Stiles stood up and turned around to his bed, back facing Scott, hands purposely placed in an attempt to cover the evidence of his arousal.

 

“Stiles, you know you don’t need to hide it from me,” Scott said. Stiles gawked and half turned around.

 

“What?”

 

“Your boner I mean. It’s chill,” Scott explained nonchalantly.

 

Stiles cocked his head in utter confusion at his best friend.

 

 _What in the holy fuck is he doing?_  Stiles questioned.

 

“I mean, you’re bi. And I’m… I’m an attractive guy,” Scott said, fiddling with his lasagne absentmindedly. “I’d actually be kinda offended if you didn’t find me hot,” Scott chuckled.

 

 _Well he definitely knows that I like him,_ Stiles concluded, feeling a little piece of him die from embarrassment. _But maybe he doesn’t know about my… other thing,_ Stiles considered hopefully.

 

Stiles turned around fully, now that his dick had gone down from shock and rubbed the back of his neck nervously in admission. “Well, um, yeah… you’re right I guess.” Scott just nodded calmly. “I’m so sorry if this makes you feel awkward or anything Scott. I never wanted my sexuality to get in the way of our friendship,” Stiles continued.

 

Scott’s face contorted slightly in what Stiles could only read as… _disappointment?_ And looked down into his bowl of lasagne. “You know it never could Stiles.”

 

And with that, Scott got up with his empty bowl and walked towards the doorway en route back to the kitchen, calling out, “I’m gonna go clean up. Let me know if you want anything.”

 

Stiles sat down on his springy bed in a huff, utterly confused by his own emotions and feelings about Scott and his pudgy body and about the interaction he had just had with Scott. Stiles was convinced he had seen disappointment on Scott’s face when he had mentioned not wanting to get in the way of their friendship. And then there was the way he had gone all puppy dog eyes before walking out of the room. Surely Scott wasn’t also attracted to Stiles? As far as Stiles knew, Scott had always been straight, and sure, he and Scott had messed around as kids, but that was just horny teenager crap.

 

_Does Scott like me?_


End file.
